


"I Could Give You A History"

by Princess of Geeks (Princess)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Episode Related, First Time, M/M, Prisoners, Romance, Season 2, Sixty-nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-15
Updated: 2010-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess/pseuds/Princess%20of%20Geeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel gets in over his head. But that's just where Jack likes him. Episode tag to S2 "Prisoners".</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I Could Give You A History"

**Author's Note:**

> This is, like, my 100th SG-1 story, and I really like it. I think it's a good example of everything I've learned to do with slash.

Daniel lingered when the others left after 'Team Night at Jack's.' Daniel, with a serious face and soft eyes, lingered, and Jack's internal warning bells went, subtly, _Uh oh_.

By now Jack could feel the capital letters: Team Night. Because by now, it was a required ritual. And maybe the ritual was a little bit beyond team cohesion and indeed Over That Line into fraternization, but Hammond knew about it (the internal SGC-system messages coordinating it were cc'd to him, and if Walter thought it was getting to where it ought to be a problem, Hammond would know about that too), and Jack figured that Hammond would judge there was some leeway here.

Because they needed downtime, the four of them. It wasn't an indulgence. They needed it as badly as any combat team Jack had ever been part of. And furthermore, they needed some of that downtime to be taken together -- unstructured time together to just bullshit, and play, and talk, and not be under fire or under pressure. Because this team had ... baggage.

See, SG-1 was the weirdest, most unconventional command he'd ever had, even counting those two NATO joint ops in Croatia right before he'd retired the first time. And unconventional always also meant unconventional downtime. And so, despite the frat regs, with SG-1 that meant home. The four of them couldn't go out all the time; they attracted a lot of attention in public in a place like the Springs, which it mostly fell to Jack and Sam to fend off, when they were out and about, and also it was just simply wearying for Jack, being in 'teacher' mode and 'lookout' mode all the fucking time. Jack got more than enough of that off world.

So he wasn't going to skimp on the downtime team-bonding events, and he did indeed push the letter of the rules, a lot, and hold team night at his house. Hence the capital letters. Daniel, blessings on his floppy-haired head, never got tired of doing the Guide to Tau'ri Culture thing for Teal'c, but sometimes Jack just wanted to sit on the deck and drink a goddamned beer, or three, and not have to keep an eye peeled for assholes.

So yeah, possibly, probably, they were too intimate, getting to be too good of friends. Too close, the four of them. But Jack didn't care. He could see that just getting to smell the evening air, see a sunset, take a walk down the block and over to the park every now and then, was fun for T. And that was just one example. Reason. Whatever. Jack shivered, thinking of the big guy cooped up in the mountain all the time. He'd made his case that Teal'c should be allowed to live off-base to Hammond, and Hammond had pushed it up the line twice, now, and been shot down both times. So they'd try again next year.

In the meantime, team night. With the alien, the geek and the girl. No one who wasn't them could possibly get it. Hell, SG-2 barely got it, and Ferretti had been here from the beginning. But he didn't have a Girl Genius, or an alien, or a civilian legend on his team, now, did he?

Team night meant something on the grill, and something on the dvd, or maybe a game -- Team Go, which had to mean Teal'c on one team and Jack on the other. Or Monopoly, or Risk. Sometimes the other two kibitzed and talked or watched TV while Jack and Daniel played chess. Teal'c had learned chess, but he much preferred Go.

The fact that Teal'c didn't drink alcohol and that Daniel was a total lightweight kept them all in line, a bit, kept them all a little on their best behavior even in private. Which was good. Because the temptations were definitely there, and this emerging at-home tradition did, in fact, serve to underline for Jack why the frat rules existed. A combat team like this, under working conditions like this, became family all too soon. And when it was six married AF Special Ops guys, that was one thing. But a totally not-by-the-book foursome like this? Nothing but temptation. And so despite himself, over and over, Jack found himself having to pull back, give himself the internal lecture. Because he was practically flirting already. With Carter, and with Daniel. Not with the big guy, so much, but that was only because Teal'c hadn't figured out the Tau'ri rules for that. Yet. Give him another six months with the Wonder Twins and he'd have that down too. Jack so far hadn't dared ask Teal'c about the rules for same-sex encounters among the Jaffa. And he dreaded the day he had to listen to Daniel ask him. Jack wasn't in denial about how he felt about the three of them, and his self-control was in fine shape, but it was pretty much even odds which of them would show up in his fantasies and dreams on any given night.

So he walked the line, and held his team nights, which this time had meant grilling some strip steaks and some chicken breasts, and Sam had brought salad, and Daniel had brought beer and a bottle of wine, and Teal'c had kicked their asses at Risk, and then Carter had grinned and kissed Jack's cheek and headed home, and Teal'c had clasped his forearm and gloated about being allowed to sign a car out of the motor pool, and Daniel was ... lingering.

Jack, in the living room, began gathering up beer bottles and paper plates.

"Hey," Daniel distantly called, over his shoulder from where he was standing on the deck, watching the moon rise over the oak trees.

Jack sighed, and battened himself down for the hundredth time this year, and put down his stack of trash on the coffee table.

"Hey," he answered, stepping toward the open doors. "Want another glass?" Daniel usually scorned Jack's beer, and tonight he'd been drinking merlot.

"Maybe," Daniel said, turning to him, the living room lamplight flashing white across his glasses, and then he turned back to the moon. He had his hands in his pockets. "Mostly I just wanted a minute to say 'thank you.' "

"For what," Jack asked, going for kind and not gruff, abandoning the idea of more wine and coming up beside Daniel to lean his forearms on the railing. The scent of lilacs and cut grass came right up from the lawn on the cool air. He inhaled, enjoying it.

"For the fact that you went out of your way, to warn me, on Hadante yesterday."

"Oh, that," Jack said, really hitting the "no big deal" on this one. Because this might be a minefield. Because Daniel had lingered. Daniel could have said this 'thank you' with the others there. But he hadn't. He'd waited. Until he and Jack were alone. Jack took a deep breath and gathered his wits.

"You went out of your way," Daniel pursued, relentless, curious, hands in pockets, looking at the sky, "to warn me about showing any weakness in that kind of culture."

"And I was right, wasn't I?" Jack said, still keeping it light.

"Prison culture," Daniel said.

Jack turned to him, and he almost said, "What's your point?", but he stopped, because if he said that, then Daniel would tell him. But he was pretty sure it didn't matter what he said, or didn't say, or how much he tried to limit Daniel to the mentioned "thank you." Daniel clearly had something to get off his chest.

Daniel hurriedly amended, "Not that I'm assuming you've been in prison as a criminal, or anything, although I think, relying only on my admittedly very incomplete knowledge and your various veiled hints, that you've only experienced prison in the context of being a POW, but that totally counts, I think, and so, you warned me."

"You're welcome," Jack said, hoping that would be the end of it, knowing it wouldn't. His heart was beating fast.

Daniel paused. Jack should go back in the house, should continue his collecting and cleaning, since the conversation was clearly over, but he stood there, elbows on the railing, watching how the rising strengthening moonlight painted Daniel's face in silver and made his glasses shine with reflected white light.

Daniel's next observation was delivered more slowly and had a thinking-out-loud air. "So, when you put that together with the taking off my glasses thing, and the always-ready-to-protect-me thing, and .... here's where my courage runs out and I hope against hope that you'll say something although I really have no reason to think that you will."

And Daniel scooted just a little closer and matched Jack's posture, pulling his hands out of his pockets, ducking his head and leaning on his elbows on the railing. His arm brushed Jack's arm.

Jack bit his lip. He willed his heart to slow. He felt the silence stretch out, and he felt Daniel wilt. Felt expectancy turn to disappointment, and Jack couldn't let it slide into embarrassment. He couldn't. He cared too much. He ...

He refused to put into words what he.... He did, however, reach up and grab Daniel's shoulder in time to arrest the shift of weight that would have ended in Daniel shoving off the railing and going back in the house.

"Can we do this over another beer? Inside?" Jack said, quietly. As calmly as he could. He barely had time to register that Daniel's shoulder felt cool under his hand, under the thin cotton of his geeky plaid shirt, before Daniel yanked his elbows up and turned and practically fled inside.

Jack followed more slowly, heading to the kitchen, cutting through the living room, noticing sidelong that Daniel had stuffed himself into a corner of the sofa and had tossed his glasses on the coffee table. He was rubbing his forehead with two fingers.

Jack slowly and deliberately warmed up a cup of coffee in the microwave, and while it was in there, equally deliberately got himself another beer, took the cap off and deposited it gently in the trash. The microwave dinged. He carried the cup and the beer out, and stood in front of Daniel, offering the coffee. Daniel wouldn't meet his eyes, but he took it. Their fingers brushed. Daniel shivered.

Jack sat down and took a careful swallow of beer. He parked the bottle on his knee and started peeling at the label with his thumbnail.

"What do you want to know?" Jack said.

Daniel regarded his coffee cup.

"Are you gay?" Daniel blurted.

Jack smiled. Give the guy an opening.... He'd known, all along, that this is what would happen if he ever did offer that opening. He let himself just go with it, just think out loud. Because this was Daniel.

"No. Well, I don't know. I loved Sara. That was real. There have been other women. So, no."

"Bisexual, then."

"I guess. You tell me. You're the designated anthropologist."

Daniel snorted, but sat still, staring into his coffee. Jack took another swallow of beer. His heart continued its pounding, slower. He could feel it in his neck. He concetrated on breathing, on the crisp cold taste of the beer.

Daniel said, "It didn't go like this in my head."

"What?"

"This conversation."

"Let me guess. You figured I'd either bite your head off and not answer, or we wouldn't talk at all and yet somehow we'd end up necking on the sofa."

Daniel blushed, suddenly and completely, and set his coffee cup on the end table so abruptly that it sloshed. He put his hand on his glasses. He was clearly about to stand and leave, but he arrested his movement, and so he sat there, every muscle tensed, turned a little away from Jack.

"Hey," Jack said.

Daniel took a deep breath. His back expanded; Jack could see the plaid shift and crease. He turned around.

"I'm married," Daniel said. His expression was pained and embarrassed.

"This isn't about that," Jack said.

They regarded each other. Jack hoped his face was neutral. Daniel met his gaze calmly enough, but his jaw was set. Jack had a sudden memory of this man, arguing with Ra's guards, calm and determined to the end, until the shooting started. And another memory from that mission, later: Daniel turning and aiming, without hesitation, without fear, striking, to save Jack's life. All their lives.

"It really isn't," Jack stressed.

Daniel leaned back a little, and frowned, and then he leaned back a little more and -- goddamn -- he stretched his arm out, obviously inviting Jack to come closer, to tuck under his shoulder.

The decision trees branched through Jack's mind like forked lightning. But because he'd chosen to meet this head-on and not play dumb, because he'd not even pretended to misunderstand what Daniel meant, Jack, again without hurry, set his Heineken bottle on the coffee table and slid over and scrunched down until his shoulder was wedged against Daniel's armpit. Jack exhaled. His near hand fit naturally on Daniel's thigh. His head tilted to rest against Daniel's. His other hand curled in his own lap. He was half hard already, he noted, absently.

But what had he expected, after all.

Daniel's hand hovered, and then curled around his shoulder. Jack closed his eyes. Now that they were touching, now that he was against Daniel's warmth, his heart slowed. A strange kind of relaxed peace eased through him, perhaps a bow of inevitability. A kind of surrender. His erection didn't relax, though. Nope, no way.

Daniel said, "I didn't think I was that obvious."

Jack smiled, soaking up Daniel through two layers of fabric. "You weren't."

Jack sat there, eyes closed, focused on touch, on proximity. Yeah. They had been heading here all along. He wondered if Daniel had known until Hadante, or, if he'd known before, when exactly Daniel had seen it, and had put it into words. But really, it didn't matter. All that mattered was what they would do from here forward. Denying it, covering it up, in Jack's experience, rarely worked. The only way out was through this. The only option was to face it.

"But you knew anyway," Daniel said.

"Sure. There's sparkage. I don't have to tell you that. It seems silly to say it out loud."

"I... don't know what to do with this now. I was very silly, in hindsight, to think I could fish around, call you out on something like this. Of course you knew exactly what you were doing. Of course you felt it too. Of course you have ... experience."

"Nothing wrong with experience."

"And you surprise me again." Daniel chuckled, soft and regretful.

"Playing with fire, were you?"

"I'm going to try very hard not to underestimate you again, okay?"

"Oh damn. And here I'd just begun to get you where I wanted you when we play chess."

Daniel laughed outright then, letting it shake him, letting the vibrations transfer right into Jack. Jack smiled, eyes still closed, and let the laughter warm him, let it shift him into leaning ever further into Daniel.

Then Daniel quieted, as if really feeling how close they were, as if noticing how this was nothing like even the careful touches Jack had initiated on Hadante, noticing that they'd finally crossed a line.

Or maybe they'd actually crossed it long ago, in a smoky conference room full of epaulettes and stars, when Jack couldn't take his eyes off Daniel's mouth.

And now Daniel's hand was under his chin, cautious but not hesitant. Daniel was tilting his face up. A tingle ran down Jack's spine and pooled in the small of his back, soaked through his groin and made him fully hard, made his balls tighten up.

Daniel touched his lips to Jack's, and it made Jack give a small, surprised whimper, and his heart sped up again. Daniel's lips were warm and damp. Daniel's hand opened, slid from Jack's chin and cupped his cheek. Daniel shifted and kissed him again, more firmly, getting closer, and Jack opened his mouth and leaned hard.

_Yes,_ his body said, wordless. He gripped Daniel's thigh, slid his hand up higher. Their kiss deepened and got wet and a little hungry.

Daniel pulled back. "I can't prom--" he started, but Jack was turning, sitting up straighter, sliding his hand around Daniel's head to keep him close, keep their mouths together.

This new kiss made Daniel clutch at him, made Daniel scrabble a little, and then hold on for dear life. The kiss took awhile, and when it ended Jack leaned in instead of away, and put his face in Daniel's neck. He rested there, feeling Daniel's breath on his neck and ear. He waited.

Daniel was quiet for a long time. Finally he said, "What now?"

"Depends," Jack said. "What do you want?"

Daniel sat up straight and leaned away, so Jack did, too, but he didn't take his hands from Daniel's body. This was too precious to waste, this opportunity to touch, to savor. Jack kept a hand on Daniel's shoulder, and thumbed his jaw with the other hand, all the while letting a smile play around the corners of his mouth.

Daniel. So smart, so impetuous, so totally unaware of how beautiful he was.

Or maybe not. Because Daniel smiled, just a touch of evil flirtation in it, and leaned his chin into Jack's hand, and said, "Review my options for me." His eyes were trying to fall closed. Watching him feel Jack's fingers on his face made Jack's mouth dry. His dick twitched in his pants, leaving a smear on his belly.

"Well," Jack drawled, "nothing will change the fact that you're married and that she is the priority here, always. But we can still do this, right here. Or we can take it to the bedroom. Which would be ... nice. Or you can agree that you called me on my flirting and you can go out to your Honda and head home."

When Jack said the word "married," Daniel's eyes came open, and he got very serious, but he didn't interrupt and he didn't protest.

He waited, as if making sure Jack had said all he intended to, and he said: "You can actually do that. Offer me all that, either a one night buddy fuck or a continuing secret ... thing ... with -- no strings."

Jack made his "whadaya gonna do" face. "Well, I love you. What can I tell you."

Daniel's face registered shock. His hand jerked and then came up to press Jack's cheek, the way he would if he'd registered that Jack might be hurt, that Jack needed attention.

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's true?"

Daniel frowned. His gaze skipped -- mouth, middle, lower down, and skipped back up to meet Jack's eyes again.

Jack smiled. "Don't make this hard, Daniel. We feel the way we do; at least, I do, and I suspect you do too or you wouldn't have pushed this tonight. I know where your loyalties lie. You know what our priorities are. It's all really simple."

"Simple," Daniel said, like he couldn't believe it.

"Simple," Jack agreed, and leaned forward into that lush mouth again.

"Simple," Daniel choked, and kissed him back.

"So," Jack said against his mouth, "you want to tell me what I'm getting into here? Do you need the Gay Sex 101 approach, or can I just drag you back to the bedroom so you can have your way with me? Or vice versa?"

Daniel swallowed. "You, you...."

Jack drew his arms a little tighter around Daniel and kissed him again, then kissed along his neck, smiling. Daniel tasted of salt and bread. "Can you be more specific, there?"

"Oh my god," Daniel said, and he stood up, almost teetering, and took Jack's hand and they set out through the house, Daniel pulling him along, past the guest room where Daniel crashed sometimes, where T. crashed sometimes, to the master bedroom.

Daniel arrived at the bed and looked at Jack with incredulous eyes as he began to take his shirt off. "It can't be as simple as you make it out to be. But I'm going to pretend you've convinced me."

"Now you've got it," Jack said, unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm telling you: Simple."

And Daniel's skin was warm silk, and Daniel's hand on Jack's dick was firm and knowing and expert, and when they lay down and Daniel kissed his way down Jack's body to take Jack in his mouth, Jack moaned approval and buried his fingers in Daniel's hair, and held him close enough that the tips brushed his thighs, and then the brushing became a heavy, seductive sweep, matched to the rhythm of Daniel's mouth.

Jack let him do it however he wanted, let him set his own changing pace for a while. It was fast and greedy, then slow and patient. Eventually Jack was leaking and hard as a rock and it was an effort to keep still. And then he murmured his advice about patience, and set a hand on Daniel's shoulder and pivoted and slid until he could slip Daniel's cock into his mouth while carefully keeping himself in Daniel's.

And Daniel groaned, and cursed -- at least Jack thought he cursed; it was hard to be sure, because, of course, Jack's dick was still shoved down his throat -- but things got very tangled and warm and confused, and it was very clear that Daniel knew what the hell he was doing, and it didn't matter that they were too involved to stop sucking even long enough to get the lube out of the drawer, because Daniel's ass was round and firm under Jack's hands, and his asshole was hot and yielding, and his groans buzzed around Jack's dick when he finally tensed and jerked and came in Jack's mouth. Daniel's orgasm pushed Jack that final inch over the top to his own. And Daniel tasted so goddamned good.

Yeah, the frat regs had their purpose. But Jack had broken more important rules for much flimsier reasons, in his day.

"God," Daniel finally said, when they'd slipped apart, and Jack had settled his head on Daniel's thigh and was still cupping his damp warm package, inhaling his scent, frankly reveling. "I had... I thought... I love you, too. You've surprised the hell out of me tonight; I don't mind telling you."

"Wouldn't ever want to bore you, dear," Jack said, easing even closer, tangling their legs and arms, and Daniel's laugh was benediction and absolution and promise, all rolled into one.

end

 

_How can you be so cold  
When there's a fire burning?  
How can you be so cold  
When all the ice is melting?_

I could give you a mirror  
To show you disappointment  
I could give you a history  
Could you ever listen in to me?

"I Could Give You", by the Eurythmics, 1983


End file.
